


A Tentative Hold on Trust

by Withstarryeyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Do not label as Slash, Fluff, Gen, Good Severus Snape, Harry Potter & Severus Snape Friendship, Hogwarts Era, Hogwarts Third Year, Hurt/Comfort, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape Friendship, Mentor Severus Snape, Migraine, Not Slash, Potions, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Snape isn't a grade A dick, headache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 01:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19453192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Withstarryeyes/pseuds/Withstarryeyes
Summary: Harry inherits Lily's migraines and seeks refuge in the cool dungeons for the pain. Snape finds him and, to both their surprise, helps Harry.





	A Tentative Hold on Trust

**Author's Note:**

> As a preface, I never read the Harry Potter books as a kid and am now, finally, just starting to go through them. I just finished the fourth book and am really enjoying them and thought I'd try my hand at a fic for the fandom. I you enjoy it!

He’d woken up with the insidious thing, working around his brain like an earworm, shoving his brain matter over and to the side as it crawled to settle as a dull thud around his right eye. It hadn’t been so bad then when he’d told Ron to buzz off and leave him alone for breakfast or he’d hex him into next week. Despite being in pain most of his life at Hogwarts, not to mention the bouts of immeasurable pain he faced at the Durselys, nothing could quite cut him at the quick as well as a well-placed migraine. 

He might’ve skived off classes too if not for the fact that Harry skipping Dinivinations would only spur Trelawney on her quest to convince all of the third years that he was going to die before the term was over. 

But the thick, pungent smoke from the North Tower had linked arms with the migraine and had ramped it from a rolling thump to more of a raging fire, the smoke of which was taking over the small field of vision he had in his right eye. He was half blind, and his stomach was rolling over the thought of anything half-way edible. Lunch was out of the question despite Ron’s attempts to drag Harry to the Great Hall-- “You’re awfully shaky, mate. Just eat a little?”. 

Ron had eventually left him after Harry’s mouth had turned the static in his brain into something offensive enough to set his temper off and override his want to look out for Harry. He sighed, knowing he needed to be nicer to his friends, or at least better, since Ron and Harry had just begun to start to talk to Hermione again after the firebolt incident. He didn’t need to stop talking to Ron now too. 

No, now he needed a place to curl up and whimper, somewhere cool and dark and freakishly quiet. This migraine was too far from being helped by Pompfrey and the thought of climbing the stairs back to his own dormitory sent Harry pale. There was only one place he could think of that fit all of those things, and yet, Harry had no desire to go there. No, the dungeons were off-limits, were a  _ death-wish  _ with all the Slytherins and Snape billowing about, just looking for a reason to dock points from Gryffindor. He couldn’t do it. But his feet had more autonomy than the half-slush form that was his brain and before he knew it he was sitting in a corner of the dungeons with his face pressed into his knees. 

It was nice, with all the students at the Great Hall for lunch, and the nice press of a chill breeze on the top of his head. He was still having an aura, but it had transformed from a great black spot to dancing lights and with his eyes closed and nothing to do except focus on the pain and his breathing he was thankful it was something to look at. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there until long, spindled fingers grabbed his arm and forced him up. They almost dropped him too, and Harry squinted up into the concentrated light from a Lumos-laden wand and felt his knees threaten to drop out. 

“Are you incapable of standing now, Potter?”

He hadn’t been able to make out who had grabbed him until they spoke, but only one person could speak his name in that exact way like it was a smear of dog poo on the bottom of their trainers. Snape had found him. Brilliant. 

“I know how to stand. Maybe I had a reason to be on the ground!” Harry mumbled and yanked his arm out of Snape’s grasp. It would bruise later, Harry knew, with how forcefully Snape did anything. Particularly grabbing students. 

“You will speak to me with respect, Potter. I will drill that into you if nothing else. 10 points from Gryffindor for the tone. If you do not wish for more points to be taken from your precious house then you will explain why you sought fit to seek refuge on the ground of the dungeons instead of shoving food into your mouth like the other idiots of your year.”

Harry pressed his palm into his right eye and pressed, trying to rub out some of the pain. Snape did that to him, pulled all his pain and anger right to the surface. Whatever good his rest in the dungeons had done was gone now, and the raging fire had been stoked into more of an uncontrollable wildfire. He stared at Snape, his black eyes and sour expression, and tried to make sense of the paragraph he’d spit at him. “Sir?” Bloody eloquent he was. 

Snape seemed to agree as he sneered at him and grabbed him around the arm again, dragging him into his classroom. The sudden pain that flared in his head from the movement extinguished all hopes Harry had of putting together a coherent sentence. His sense of reality was rather blurred until Snape shoved him on a couch and pressed a vial of something-- deep sapphire and shimmering as it swirled--into his hand. Harry took it and squinted up at Snape, keeping his bad eye closed. “What’s this?” He slurred but uncorked it anyway, trying to waft the scent towards him. 

He had the feeling Snape wanted to roll his eyes at him but, upon realizing how undignified the act was, chose to scowl instead. “You have a migraine do you not? It’s a pain potion, take it.”

Harry shook his head, groaning when that made everything worse and forced words out of his mouth. “Won’t help. Nothing does, ‘cept sleep.”

Snape’s glower deepened and Harry tipped the liquid into his mouth warily. “I did not poison it, Potter. Tempting as it would be, it would be far too easy for the Headmaster to track me down at this time if I had.”

He finished the whole vial and corked it, wincing at the taste--like sand and seaweed-- and was surprised when the pain in his head slowly wound down to the tame thrum it had been when he’d awoken that morning. “Sir?”

“Didn’t seem to help your vocabulary did it Potter?”

“The pain, it’s gone.”

“An astute observation, truly,” Snape scoffed and Harry felt his mood sour, “You’re the savior the prophet hangs the world on?”

His temper was rising but Harry had to admit that Snape had  _ helped _ . He could’ve given him a detention, for skipping a meal or trespassing where he shouldn’t have been, but instead, he’d seen Harry in pain and helped him. He pressed down his anger and let a small smile slip on his face, “Thank you, sir. For the potion, nothing’s ever helped before.”

Snape huffed but the fire in his stare flickered out, then, for a brief moment, Harry thought he saw something kind, or at least warm, replace it. “Nothing else helped your mother either.”

He startled and flushed but Snape had already turned away, billowing back into his office like a great bat. Harry wondered if he was supposed to stay, or if that was a sign he should leave. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew that he had Charms a few hours after lunch and after that he had Potions. Before he could convince himself to leave, Snape came out of his office with a blanket and shoved it at him. Harry took it, draping it over his lap. He hadn’t realized he was shivering. 

“That potion is only effective long-term if taken before a short rest. You may stay on this couch for the next half-hour to ensure that my ingredients have not gone to waste.” That same warmth, so unlike the callous rage that often took up residence in the deep blackness of Snape’s eyes, rolled over Harry and he swallowed, feeling embarrassed. But he didn’t argue, shifting so his back was facing his Professor, and closing his eyes. 5 seconds later and he was out. 

To his word, Snape woke him up sometime later. He caught him right before Harry exited the classroom for charms. “Potter?”

“Yes, Professor?” Harry wavered in the threshold, part of him wanting to flee, the other part--the part that was slightly touched by Snape’s actions--wanting to stay. 

“If another migraine arises you are to report to me immediately, understood?”

Harry nodded uncertainly but it seemed good enough for Snape, who gave a cool nod and returned to marking papers with red ink. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! If you would like to see more Harry Potter fics from me, or even just more Severus Snape and Harry getting along fics please let me know. I would love to write more if there's an audience for it. As always if you enjoyed this please comment or leave a kudos, they do wonders for my ego :) 
> 
> Thanks,   
> C


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